Amie couldn’t really run anymore.
Her strange new body didn’t seem injured, despite the openings in her legs. She saw no blood emerging from those holes, or anything worse. But just because she wasn’t dying didn’t mean she was okay.
She hobbled through the underbrush, which looked distinctly larger than she remembered. Grasses and wildflowers made it past her knees. Where there were no trails of trees, the foliage grew thick enough to make her vanish completely. Part of Amie wanted to walk that way, sneaking covertly instead of traveling out in the open.
She could see no sign of other occupants outside, at least not by her brother’s tent. There were many others extending down the hill, but he hadn’t gone that way. Wes just wasn’t the kind of person to look for help from other people. If something went wrong, he was going to run off on his own until he could fix it.
Not this time. We’re fixing this.
Amie never felt the need to pull out a flashlight to see what she was doing. The half-moon gave her more than enough to see. More importantly, it was enough that she could see the trail her brother had chosen. Lookout Point was the shortest of many hiking paths near camp, which led to a rocky promontory about half a mile from the trailhead.
It gave an excellent view of the camp at night, and the whole countryside during the day. Wes could hide there and see anyone coming long before they got there.
The PA system hissed and squeaked, loud enough that Amie felt her ears twist, pressing themselves flat against her head. It didn’t really help, that was just one more confusing feeling she couldn’t quite place.
“All campers and staff please report to the multipurpose building. Please remain calm.”
Amie did not recognize the speaker by their tone. But some of that was probably the strange tenor of their voice. It reverberated just as unnaturally as her own. It was unnerving to listen to, like fingernails scraping against glass. And I sound just as bad.
“Report to the multipurpose building. Do not panic.” With another squeak, the speakers went silent.
The others went through this same thing. That was good and bad—good that she wouldn’t have to hide from the other campers. They faced this impossible situation together. But was this isolated to Adventure Camp, or had the entire world been suddenly cursed by a malevolent god?
She ignored the order for now, speeding up as she made her way up the trail. The gravel was incredibly uncomfortable against her hooves, but the alternative meant walking through mud. But from the regular marks alongside the trail, that was what Wes had done.
She found him right where she expected, near the lookout. He sat on a large boulder, right behind the wooden fence that separated visitors from a plunge of nearly two hundred feet. “Wes! Wes, why’d you run?”
There was no hiding her voice. Maybe she could practice sounding human if she had more time. But she would have to live through this first.
He looked up, twisting his neck around to look back towards her. In that instant, Amie’s own fears about her voice fled. That image etched itself into her mind, and would probably remain for years, assuming she lived long enough.
Her brother followed the same basic body plan, a vaguely equine insect with huge eyes and clear wings. But that was where the similarities ended. Instead of stark black, his body was a soft orange in color, and would probably look quite vivid under full sunlight. There were no holes in his wings either, and an almost mineral sparkle when they opened in surprise.
Beside him on the rock were several furry lumps, bigger than they had any right to be. Amie had seen them many times before, though never so close to a person. They were too wary of being harmed, and for good reason. Bats were not large or powerful animals, and anything that happened to their wings would kill them by starvation soon enough.
There were two of them, huge, fluffy creatures appearing about a foot tall to her eyes. But Amie was still adjusting to the scale of her world, and couldn’t trust her own observations. Maybe they were both just smaller.
Wes wasn’t wearing anything, just like her. But he’d brought the book, and it sat on the rock beside the bat. “I tried to wake you up,” he said. “But you weren’t responding. I wanted to get a good look around before you woke up.”
Amie approached slowly, eyeing the animals. They weren’t just bigger than she remembered, but friendlier too. Her wings opened, moving of their own accord with her anxiety. It felt just as last time. “Aren’t you worried those things will bite you?”
She was probably just losing it, but Amie could’ve sworn that one of the bats swiveled their head towards her, baring their teeth for a second. As though it had somehow understood her, enough to be insulted.
“They seem nice,” Wes answered, turning back to the cliff. “You should see this. View up here is great.”
She approached from the other side, putting Wes between herself and the bats. Hopefully weird bugs were immune to rabies. Bugs aren’t mammals. But horses aren’t bugs. “Are you serious? Wes, can you see yourself? You can see me. Doesn’t this bother you? We’re monsters.”
He nodded absently, distracted. “Guess so. I’ve seen spookier. Before you got out, I thought this was some weird dream. But it’s not just us anymore, see?” He lifted one leg, pointing over the edge.
Amie made her way over, staring off in the direction he indicated. She was struck first by the amazing clarity of the view. Even at night, she could easily see the whole camp, and the mountains all around them. One looked the same, the other very different.
Adventure Camp was waking up. Dozens of creatures moved in the darkness, none of them properly bipedal as she remembered. Groups of four rushed out of their tents, moving in nervous packs towards the multipurpose building. If anything, the bright amber lights from down there lit things up too well, making it harder to focus on the mountains all around them.
But she would have to be blindfolded to miss the obvious. Instead of the view down towards Lakeville far below, she saw only the access road, leading a short distance away from camp. It ended abruptly, smacking into a peak that shouldn’t be there.
“Like a god scooped us right up, then dropped us somewhere else,” she whispered. “You’re smart, Wes—you read all those books. What could cause this?”
Wes giggled, then saw her staring and caught himself short. He stood, causing the bats beside him to lift off with agitation, taking off into the night. They didn’t go far—Amie caught their eyes glowing down from nearby trees. Her senses were just too good for anything to hide from her in the dark.
“If there were more books about people turning into bugs, maybe that would make sense. I don’t really know what’s going on. I just know this doesn’t feel like a dream.” He concentrated, and his wings opened, polished greenish shell on his back. Those wings moved up and down for a second, like he was trying to fly. Of course, nothing happened.
“I hoped I was dreaming so this would go away. I don’t think it will.” He touched one leg up against the fence, pushing forward with a little force.
If nothing else had brought their changed scale into perspective, it was this. A fence that should be barely up to his waist was now even with his head, if she ignored the sharply pointed horn and semitransparent fin running down his head.
The fence wobbled slightly, creaking where he pushed. “Loose joint right here. I came up here so many times. Even the little details are perfect. I don’t think this is some Truman-Show copy of camp. Why work so hard to make things right only to get our bodies all wrong?”
Down below, the PA system hissed and crackled again. The sound was a little distorted when it reached them, muted by the distance. But without a thunderstorm Amie could still make out the words clearly. “Campers and staff. You are not alone. Please do not attempt to leave. Come to the multipurpose building, we will help you.”
Amie grunted noncommittally. “They’ll want my help dealing with the crowds. Mr. Albrecht will fire me for sure if I’m not there after something so huge.”
Wes laughed again, louder than last time. “You think your job matters? Look up, Amie. What do you notice about those stars?”
She obeyed. Without knowing how she knew, Amie sat back, settling on her lower body like an animal. That had the added benefit of keeping any weird animal stuff against the ground, where no one could see it. So long as she always faced the people she was talking to, she could pretend that wasn’t an issue.
“They look, uh… easier to see,” she finally said. “Less glow coming off Lakeville. Maybe none. Camp lights are still annoying. Bet we could make do without them.”
His tail whipped back and forth. It was made of a single clear fin, like the one running down his back. It made a cracking sound each time it smacked against the boulder, but Wes didn’t seem to notice. “They’re different constellations. The difference is bigger than just northern or southern hemispheres either. Some similar patterns, but nothing is where I expect.”
“We should talk to Counselor Norman,” she said instantly. “Up at the observatory? If you noticed, he did. Maybe the telescope can tell us more.”
But that was just another reminder that they should head back. Whatever had just happened to Stella Lacus Adventure Camp, it was bigger than a single brother and sister changed into two different bugs.
She backed away from the cliffside, catching his leg with one of hers. It felt softer than she expected, though without hands there was also nothing to hold them together, and she started slipping past. “They’re calling for us at the multipurpose building. Maybe someone there knows what is really going on. Could be a… weapons test, or magic spell, or…”
“Magic?” he repeated, indignant. “You’re reaching, Amie. No matter how absurd this feels, there’s an explanation.” He pulled his leg free, facing her as she backed away. “You go without me. I can barely stand the crowd when they’re all people in there, instead of freaky aliens. I’ll stay up here, to keep an eye on things. If camp explodes, fly up here and we’ll escape together.”
She rolled her eyes. “You really think we’re better off out in the mountains, instead of with other people going through the same thing? It’s still deer season, you know. We get too far from camp, some hunters could think we’re just really sick animals and shoot us.”
He giggled again. “You’re the Pioneering counselor, Amie. If anyone can make it on their own, it’s you. Don’t your skills mean anything?”
She reached up, clasping him on the shoulder with one strange leg. He was still the taller of the two, despite their strange transformations. Maybe it was just that he wasn’t a mirror, but Wes didn’t seem so disgusting to look at. The lack of holes made it seem less like his body was rotting away.
“If anything happens, the combination to my building is 43-19. Get into my room and lock the door.”
He nodded. “So long as being gross bugs doesn’t mean there are gross-bug-eating animals up here, I wouldn’t worry. The other campers shouldn’t be a problem, we can barely even walk right now. I’ve seen them tripping over each other just to make it to the MPB.”
She let go of him a few seconds later, then backed away towards the trail. Only when she was a considerable distance away did she finally turn, scampering back the way she came. Wouldn’t want to face away from him until she already had the trees to hide in.